


An Inside Joke

by orphan_account



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Mentioning of Blood and Violence, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 18:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17872955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Heather and Robbie the Rabbit say goodbye to one another, in their own antisocial kind of way.





	An Inside Joke

After all this time, it was still sitting there on the bench.

The mascot character's head is tilted off to the side as if admiring something in the distance. Heather follows its gaze but there's nothing of particular interest other than the park's exit and a flickering streetlamp. The night is so quiet that she can hear moths flitting around the streetlamp, clinking against the glass globe. The silhouettes of their little bodies are illuminated from the back with erratic pulses of light which strikes her as _cute_ , as strange as a word that might seem to describe them. The fog, previously so heavy that it had had completely obscured the pavement below her feet, was beginning to lift as the morning approached, just as a turnstile would after paying one's dues, now granting Heather leave of Lakeside Amusement Park. However, even though she has settled her business with Silent Hill, Robbie the Rabbit continues to bother her. She needs to leave as quickly as possible lest whatever dictates the rules of this place changes its mind about letting her go. Heather knows this.

Always the rebel, she sits down beside Robbie anyway, ignoring her instincts that scream at her to stay away from the demonic entity. Heather opens her mouth but quickly closes it again, unable to bring herself to talk directly to Robbie. The sensation she's feeling in the back of her head (or possibly soul) reminds the young woman of all the people back in the city that she passes by every day, the ones she will never know on a personal level, rushing off and bleeding into the background, no more significant to her than buildings she will never enter, trees she will ever walk under, or clouds she'll never glance at for more than a few seconds. None of these people want to slow down to talk. Those people most likely feel the same way about Heather. Everyone including herself just buzzes around one another, crawling over each other in the hive of society without so much as a 'hello'.

Robbie doesn't offer her that unconsciously desired 'hello' either. At this point in the game, it isn't so much a 'hello' she wants but rather a 'goodbye'. Heather wants to hurry up and close this chapter of her life so that she can move on. She's been through a lot, to the say the least. She finds herself absently wondering if Robbie has too - sucking in her breath, she debates on whether or not such a sentiment is stupid - or, with everything that has happened, if anthropomorphizing Robbie in such a way is oddly intuitive. The mascot character is likely empty inside, at least of anything physical; she'd yank off its head and check but she can't seem to muster the courage to do this either. There's just something about Robbie that suggests to stay at arm's distance at all times. Heather fights the urge to look away, growing annoyed at the power this mute oversized doll apparently has over her. She studies the textures of its clothes and the wrinkles in the foam of its body. Its mouth is caked in crimson; at this angle, she can see the blood glistening and realizes it is fresh.

There is a second Robbie laying a couple yards away, managing to look even deader than the one on the bench. Heather glances from one Robbie to the next, unable to decide what Robbie would gain from attacking itself, assuming that is what happened which for all she knows might not have. There's no discernible puncture wound in the second Robbie nor any weapons laying around but yes, it kind of looks and definitely feels worse off than the other.  

She turns to face the first Robbie again. Though it displays the same smiling yet blank expression that it always has, she swears Robbie is now looking even farther to the left than it had been just a few moments ago.

If anyone were to ask Heather why she continues creeping closer to Robbie, she wouldn't be able to answer. It's just, well, how can she explain it. You know when you're a kid and you're laying in bed and it's so dark that you can't see the nearby closet but you know on some primal level that inside the closet it is even darker? And this scares the shit out of you but you know you have to close that damn door no matter how scary it is. You get up and slowly approach it, half-expecting a monster to jump out, but it doesn't matter because if you don't close the door now then a monster will certainly come out later. It's like that with Robbie. Robbie is the closet reanimated and Heather really needs to shut the door.   

"It's rough, isn't it?" Heather finally manages to whisper. She rubs her arms, suddenly chilled.

Robbie of course doesn't answer.

"But it's exciting too. Every day seems the same until much later on. Then you look back and it hits you just how much has changed. People. The world. You. Me." It's admittedly an odd way to start a conversation but Heather suspects Robbie knows what she's talking about. When she was growing up, she would talk to her stuffed animals in fragmented sentences; it is unwritten law that toys always understanding what kids mean if they aren't well versed in verbally conveying what they wish to talk about.

The low mechanical hum of dormant theme park rides renders as almost pleasant against the harshness of her own voice. Silent Hill is named as such for a reason - it prefers action over casual conversation. When Heather had first arrived, there had been a sense of belonging here in the disturbing but familiar atmosphere beyond the watchful gaze of fleshy carousel horses. To call Silent Hill 'homey' was a stretch; you wouldn't call prison a home... but it does _house_ the inmates trappedinside. Now Heather felt as though she was being pushed out of Silent Hill by unseen hands. It wasn't so much that she felt unwelcome, it was more like the place wasn't big enough for her - that she had outgrown it and Silent Hill needed her to leave so that more guests could come to visit.   

"I won't be able to come back once I leave, will I?" The woman gestures to the exit. _Not that she would ever want to obviously._ Still, she couldn't in good faith claim that her nightmare of a vacation had been all bad. Heather had learned more about herself and the workings of the universe in her brief stay here then she had during the rest of her whole life. The 'real' world was hell but it was no hell like this hell which managed to feel a hell of a lot more real and if life up until this point was any indicator, hell extends farther than the mind can ever hope to fully comprehend. Luckily, everyone has a lil' sadism and a lil' masochism in them. The duality shared between the two was something of a natural inborn defense mechanism that all creatures have, Heather reckoned. 

There is a bloodstained trash bin next to the bench and Heather suspects there might be a third Robbie nearby. Sitting closer like this, it occurs to Heather that she and Robbie are roughly the same size and height. She could fit into the mascot costume and Heather doesn't know what to do with this newly discovered information. She frowns, aware that the first Robbie has mysteriously raised its paw over the back of the bench without her actually seeing it do so. If Robbie had fingers, it might be pointing - whether at the exit or at Heather, your guess is as good as hers. _Ugh, hopefully these hallucinations quit soon,_ Heather thinks, kneading her eyes with a closed fist. 

"Well... this was a nice chat. Suppose I'll be seeing you around." Maybe. Maybe not. She has no idea if she'll ever run into Robbie again. She'd rather not but who knows what horrors await lovingly in the future. Frankly not caring either way, she shrugs and stands up, dusting herself off. Heather doesn't look back at Robbie as she walks to the exit but does give the rabbit a warm two finger salute at the eclipse of their friendship.

She doesn't catch Robbie waving behind her.


End file.
